


Don't you dare look out your window

by Noscere



Category: XCOM (Video Games) & Related Fandoms, xcom 2
Genre: Bad Ending, Gen, Join the Aliens AU, Mind control is sketchy as hell, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-28
Updated: 2016-08-28
Packaged: 2018-08-11 13:19:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,008
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7894135
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Noscere/pseuds/Noscere
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Return to us, and your world will be spared. Resist, and there will be nothing left to save.”</p>
<p>The XCOM Commander chooses different allies to fight the war ahead.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Don't you dare look out your window

**Author's Note:**

> There is _very_ questionable mind control here.

The Commander feels their shock of platinum white hair. Not their original hair, not their original hands, not even their original body. The Commander no longer remembers the feel of the human vessel, be it male or female. The Commander exists as it, if you do not consider their links to the others in the Ethereal Transcendency, and _they_ , when their minds and powers combine. 

It has been forty-eight years since Operation Leviathan, and sixty-eight since the invasion. The ADVENT Administration rules Earth, and its leaders are preparing for war.

 

ADVENT’s finest Commander strolls down the pristine hallways of the Synedrion. Strands of golden power web the air, sending thoughts and text and images at the speed of light. The Commander reaches out, and catches a thought.

“ _Andromedons and Sectopods doing well. Human battalions still standing, but have taken heavy losses from the husks. Three relays shut down. Running low on ammo and manpower.”_ A message from former XCOM General Peter van Doorn, stationed at the Charon Outpost. General van Doorn resisted ADVENT to the very last, and when sixty battalions of Mutons came marching up to meet him, he had tried to blow them all up with enough TNT to rival Fat Man and Little Boy. Unfortunately, ADVENT had its uses for the renegade general, and had saved him from the brink of death. They had transformed them like they had transformed the Commander, transferring his mind into the body of an AVATAR. “ _Not fair if we have all the fun_.”

The Commander shakes their head fondly. It seems the General is adjusting well to his new role in the Transcendency, if van Doorn is regaining his old personality. The Commander is glad. They would hate to lose another old friend.

XCOM's former Commander walks on, noticing the cracks in the vaulted, coralline pillars and the scratches of shark teeth in the glass. It was too bad that Shen and Tygan had committed suicide rather than serve the Administration. The Transcendency needed new weapons to fight the Old Ones – monstrous creatures that drove men mad upon sight, who devoured minds and planets like a flood consuming dry river banks.

“ _The first invasion was a test. But your people did not fail as you believe. You succeeded beyond measure. You need only accept your place amongst us…_ ” The Commander remembers Angelis Ethereal’s words like yesterday.

“ _Keep pushing Commander,_ ” Bradford had chanted. Oh sweet, loyal, determined Bradford. The Commander misses him greatly. Although they find the same loyalty in the Thin Men, both altered and unaltered, there is no one who can replace XCOM’s Central Officer. _“They’re losing their grip on their world and they know it!_ ”

“ _We have lost nothing, for our greatest weapon returns to us_ ,” Angelis had retorted.

 

The Commander joins the others in the Situation Room. Now free of their staghorn-coral coffins, the Ethereals roam freely in Avatar bodies. The choice to give them these bodies was a betrayal of XCOM’s principles. But the Commander loved Earth, first and foremost, and one conversation had tipped them over.

“ _ADVENT forces are hitting back hard. Our people are holding their own, but it’s not looking good._ ” Bradford’s voice had been tight with worry. The Commander was thousands of miles away, deep under the ocean, but they had wished nothing more than to soothe his pain. _“Whatever we’re gonna do, we better do it fast_.”

“ _ADVENT offered your people hope. A brighter future. To be something greater. But still you refuse. What more can we offer you than the greatest gift of all?_ ” the ADVENT Speaker had asked, his voice echoing through the Elder-supported psionic network.

“ _From here, we can call upon an endless region of reinforcements. You will be overrun. Yet our armies could be withdrawn at any time, Commander. Peace is within your grasp, if you would just rejoin us_ ,” said the Angelis Ethereal.

The Commander had killed another Viper with a shot from their plasma weapon.

Angelis sighed. “ _For decades, you were a part of us, Commander. You are capable of so much more, and yet you fail to grasp the true nature of your power. Return to us, and your world will be spared._ ” She continued in the same, chiding tone. “ _Resist, and there will be nothing left to save._ ”

Then the Commander remembered the Elders’ goal to process all human life into a soupy genetic paste to build Avatar forms. Before XCOM had interfered, the Elders had only processed the most psionically powerful members of the species. It was murder, yes, but what would soon proceed was genocide.

“ _Let us show you_ ,” said a raspy-voiced Ethereal.

An Avatar shot a pulse of psionic energy that connected with the Commander’s head.

They saw too much.

From beyond the stars, the Old Ones were approaching, with their machines of twisted iron melded to flesh and their monsters of reanimated madness.

Humanity would not survive the incoming flood.

The knowledge almost broke the Commander, but when they straightened up from the ground, they knew what had to be done. Humanity had to survive. Bradford would have to forgive them for their sins and crimes.

 

“What news, Angelis?” the Commander asks.

“The Old Ones have left deep space, and approach rapidly,” Angelis responds. “At last count, three have converged on the planet the humans call Neptune.”

The Commander nods. “I will send two corps of Mutons and Vipers to assist General van Doorn on the Charon Outpost.” Angelis makes to protest, but the Commander holds up a hand. “Few of our fighters may take on an Old One without succumbing to madness. Neptune is of little tactical use to us. Far better to seal off the Relays, and prevent their further encroach into this solar system.”

“You will defeat them here, as you did once before, Commander,” said the rasping Ethereal. The Commander faintly remembers him from the first invasion. “But what of our Transcendency on other stars?”

“They will have to send requests to the Council,” the Commander replies with a tranquil smile. After months of kowtowing to superiors and councilmen, it is nice to be on the other side. “For now, humanity is at risk, and I intend to protect it.”

“And us,” Angelis adds, “for our power does not waver. You will find our forces here loyal. They require no coercion, for they know failure here means the end for all. For these humans, you may not find it the same.”

“Of course. Call me when I am needed,” the Commander says dismissively, and leaves.

 

Plans boil inside the Commander’s head as they walk to their next destination. The occasional Ethereal or soldier will offer advice – the Commander strictly avoids listening to the Sectoids, as their advice consists merely of cruelty and cowardice, but they will always lend an ear to XCOM’s formed soldiers.

“ _Consider all those who have sacrificed for your cause, Commander_ ,” the ADVENT Speaker had said in the very same underwater base. “ _So many friends… so many allies… for what…_ ”

ROV-R flies by. The Commander has campaigned to keep ROV-R its original shade of steel-grey, but the other Ethereals insisted on repainting the GREMLIN to fit the ADVENT aesthetic.

_Note to self: repaint the poor thing next time I grab a minute,_ the Commander thinks. _This blood red is hideous and taints Shen’s memory_.

The Commander faintly remembers watching Shen scream and writhe, as the Codexes shut down her beloved machines and took her prisoner.

_We heard that, and disapprove strongly_ , the raspy Ethereal retorts.

_It’s all for humanity_ , the Commander thinks as loudly as possible. _I’m doing this to save my people. Never you._

_As long as you are with us_ , Angelis sighs.

 

 

As a courtesy, the Commander knocks on their target door. They are well within their rights to barge in, but small courtesies keep this room’s occupant happy. And after all that he has suffered, the Commander will grant him this.

“It’s open,” Bradford snarls.

Bradford is far older now, though his body is frozen in time by a healthy dose of medicine, nanomachines Vahlen had unwittingly developed, and of course, the Commander’s own psionics. It does not fault XCOM’s Central Officer for attempting to murder it – twenty years of hard work, only to be betrayed? The Commander can sympathize, now that it is part of the Ethereal Transcendency. But there is war on horizon, and the Commander must summon their best general to the front lines. 

The Commander does their best to keep XCOM’s mastermind’s mind off the current situation. Bradford’s uniform is styled on his post-Invasion one, but it bears the colors of his woolly-pully from the original base. His hair is salt-and-pepper, cropped short around the sides and gelled up at the front – he is permitted one straight razor, as many cans of gel as he needs, and unlimited hot water as long as he does not attempt to drown himself. At his right shoulder is a golden knife, the hilt styled after the Elder statues in city centers. By far ceremonial – Bradford has much better weapons at his hip and in the drawers of his desk – but the weight of the knife seems to comfort him. It was difficult to convince the other Elders of the importance of sweaters and tactical knives - in that regard, they were worse than the Council of Nations during the invasion – but the Commander considers the fight well worth it. If Bradford is happy, then so are they.

He does not look up from his tablet when his superior enters.

“Good morning, Bradford.” The Commander tilts their head. “Or is it evening now? I tend to lose track, under the sea.”

“Fuck off.” The pen stills in his hand. Bradford looks up, his eyes clear brown once again. Ever the strong-minded one, XCOM’s former Central Officer has shaken off the mind control once again. “I should’ve killed you before cutting that damn link!”

The Commander winces. After they had accepted the Elder’s offer, Bradford had gone into shock. He couldn't believe the superior he damn near worshiped would ever consider anything but genocide of the aliens in turn. But after freeing the Elders from their coffins, the Central Officer would not hear a word more. Bradford had stormed down to the labs and ordered the psionic link severed. The trauma had not killed the Commander, but it did seal them within the Avatar body. Bradford had promptly disposed of the Commander’s body with a machete: the Administration had discovered the bloody remains after assaulting the Avenger.

The Elders wanted Bradford eliminated. The Commander persuaded them of his tactical use.

 

“We fight a menace we could not fight alone, Bradford,” they say. The Commander places two hands on his glass desk. Psionic power pools beneath their fingertips. “Already, companies of men have been driven mad.” 

“We fought for humanity’s freedom!” the Central Officer spits. His hand strays to the knife on his shoulder. “We should’ve died free! We trusted you! We thought you would bring us out of the darkness. I fought for you – twenty damn years – so humanity could decide its fate once again.” Bradford stands. “But you betrayed us. You shacked up with the Elders, and for what? Eternal life? Unbridled power? At the cost of billions of lives.” He spits on the table. “You disgust me.”

“I have never wanted anything else but humanity’s safety–“

“You sacrificed our freedom, you sacrificed our minds, you send us into a meat grinder, you puppet us into another war–“ Bradford lunges. The knife sails towards the Commander’s chest. “You betrayed me! I trusted you!”

The Commander lifts a hand, and catches the knife in light blue psionic strands. Bradford hisses like a trapped cat and punches his superior in the chest. The Commander dips into the knowledge – surrendered by former XCOM operatives – and grabs their subordinate in a headlock. Bradford struggles with all his might – one kick upends the table, another catches the Commander in the knee – but his superior has psionics powering them.

XCOM’s former Commander pins their Central Officer to the ground.

“I’m so sorry, Bradford. It was you, or humanity.”

Bradford jams his knee into the Commander’s gut. “Keep justifying ADVENT’s lies, you traitor. I should’ve killed you long ago.”

“Then go on.” The Commander gets off his chest and opens their arms. “Kill your Commander. Go on, try.”

Bradford seizes his knife and rushes forward. The blade impacts harmlessly against a psionic field embedded in the Commander’s armor.

“Nothing can hurt me now,” the Commander says, “except your refusal to do what is best for humanity.”

“You sold us out! You spit on the sacrifice of everyone I loved and cared for – our soldiers, our scientists, our engineers, Vahlen, Tygan, Shen and little Shen–” Bradford keeps stabbing his superior, to no effect. “You betrayed me, you stand here with my Commander’s spirit but you’re not my superior! Not anymore, and never again!”

The Commander flicks their hand. A gout of psionic energy issues from their hand and pins Bradford to the back of the upended desk.

“I will always do what is best for humanity’s survival, John,” the Commander says. “I always–“

“You traitor,” he snarls. “I – I can’t believe – at one point, I would’ve followed you to the ends of the Earth.” The fight suddenly drains from Bradford’s shoulders. “I– Damn it, Commander, I– twenty damn years, did all that mean nothing?“

“It trained humanity, started them on the path to resist the Old Ones. Our suffering has made us strong.”

Bradford sighs. “To think… that once upon a time…”

“Yes?”

The Commander catches the gleam in his eye – the same as a predator before it pounces – and readies for an attack.

Just in time, because Bradford slices through the bonds holding him down and lunges for the Commander’s neck. Only a well-placed Stasis prevents Bradford from strangling the life out of his superior.

 

“It seems you too are developing psionic powers. Always a tricky one, are you not?” the Commander asks, trailing a hand along his cheek. “You’ve grown so much. You were, and remain, one of humanity’s treasures. I’m glad that I’ve kept you alive.”

“Let me die, you bastard!” Bradford bites at his superior’s hands. “Or do it, you coward. Let me die like little Shen and Tygan. You think you’re doing the best for humanity – then kill me.”

“I will not.”

“I’m gonna tear down everything you worked for.” There is poison in his eyes that threatens to strip the flesh from the Commander’s bones. “You’ve put me in a place of power. I’m gonna use every inch of that power. You might not have been the Commander I believed you were. But you’re not representative of humanity. There’s still people fighting, and as long as there are those who believe humanity should be free, XCOM will never die. No matter what _you_ do to taint _our_ legacy.”

“I believe you.”

Bradford’s eyes widen. The Commander restrains a smile. Always the picture of surprise, this one, particularly at close range.

“You do?”

“Of course. Which is why I have to do this to you.”

 

“Sir! Commander!” The Commander’s former name slides from Bradford’s lips. He struggles against the stasis. “Please, no, no, don’t do it. I don’t want to – please, let me die free, give humanity their freedom – just kill me, I can’t take–“

“It’s okay, John.” The Commander looses a tendril of psionic power. The light blue energy dances along their hands to their fingertips. The Commander places both hands on Central’s neck and tips his face up to meet theirs. “You will have your say and your due. But for now, you must follow me.”

“Kill me,” he gasps as the psionics spark against his skin, “kill me, if I was ever your friend, take my life if you want, just free our people–“

“You are my friend. And that is why I am keeping you alive.”

Bradford groans as the Commander’s power finally suffuses him. It’s a heart-rending, ragged sound, akin to a mother dog finding its pups dead in their den.

“Please – I… I don’t wanna be a slave, I don’t want to send men to their deaths!“

_Follow me one last time_ , the Commander thinks, encoding their orders into their subordinate’s mind. _Trust me. I will make humanity free. I will bring the Old Ones and the Elders to their knees. Together, we will be free._

“Please, Commander,” he begs. Tears trail down his cheeks. The Commander can feel his mind bucking, attempting to throw off their psionic presence in a last-dich attempt. “You’ve got to be in there, I can feel my friend there, you can’t do this–“

_I can_. _I will. I will save humanity, and you will do so with me. You just need to follow me. Two more years, I promise._

“Kill me,” he manages to gasp before the psionics overtake him. “I don’t want to remember you like this.”

“You won’t. When you next wake, this will all be a dream. Humanity will be free.”

Purple sparks leak into the Central Officer’s eyes. The mind control is almost complete.

“Work hard, my Central.” The Commander cups his cheeks between their gloved hands. The Central Officer shudders as the purple power claims his irises. “You believed in me for twenty years. I need you to believe me for just two more years. I promise, the war will be over then. Humanity will take its rightful place among the stars. We will endure, and we will survive, and we will be victorious.”

“Yes, Commander,” Bradford says.

“Good boy.”

XCOM’s former Commander pats Bradford on the shoulder. With a flick of their hand, the desk rights itself.

“Now get to work. General van Doorn needs two corps of Vipers and Mutons each at the Charon Outpost. They must shut down the Relays before it is too late,” the Commander says, and leaves.

In their wake, they leave a broken, mind-controlled shell of XCOM's former Central Officer.

_It will all be worth it. I promise._

 

**Author's Note:**

> Old Ones are probably like Elder Gods and Reapers combined. Clearly, what the Reapers need is more dangly soft tentacles to freak people out. It worked for the Gatekeepers.
> 
> Title from "Safe and Sound," as sung by Taylor Swift, Hunger Games OST.


End file.
